


The Dangers of Tree-Climbing

by feeisamarshmallow



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It's pretty fluffy, but this is the closest i've ever come to writing fluff, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 05:24:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeisamarshmallow/pseuds/feeisamarshmallow
Summary: What better way to celebrate the renewal of b99 than some feel-good hurt/comfort? Jake kinda-sorta falls out of a tree and onto a bees nest. Amy is there to catch him, well, figuratively at least. Set mid-season 3.





	The Dangers of Tree-Climbing

They’re sitting in an unmarked patrol car outside a mid-scale red brick apartment. 

"I can't see," Jake complains, gesturing to the large tree that obscures the side of the building from view. "They could be sitting out on the balcony, doing drug deals right in the open and we wouldn't even know. "

"Oh man! They probably are," his eyes widen, "right now!" 

"No, Jake." Amy roles her eyes. "All of our CI's say this guy meets them six blocks over. Doing deals in his house wouldn't be good for his cover." 

"Yeah," he pouts. "But something doesn't feel right about is guy, I want to be able to see his balcony." 

They sit for a beat in silence before Jake speaks again. "The tree!" He exclaims, eyes lighting up. 

Amy turns to look at him. "Jake," she warns. 

"Don't worry I am a pro at tree-climbing. I've never even fallen out of one before." 

"Somehow I don't think that's an accomplishment." 

"Okay, fine," he continues, "I fell once." 

Amy just stares at him, wondering how she could simultaneously love someone so much and be so annoyed. 

"And I broke my arm," he pauses for a breath, "but don't worry I'll be fine, you stay here in case he comes out the front door. 'Kay bye thanks babe." And before Amy can say anything, Jake is getting out of the car and trying to remain inconspicuous and hide his enthusiasm for tree-climbing. 

She laughs to herself as he first tries to take a running start and climb up the tree. It takes three tries for him to find purchase enough to scramble up to the lowest branch. The funny thing about Jake was that, he often did ridiculous things, but more often than his ridiculousness was useful. He continued to climb higher in the tree. Suddenly, he turned back toward their car and gave Amy an exaggerated thumbs up. As if he was trying to prove her point, his spontaneous strategy appeared to, once again, be more useful than their original strategy. He seemed to be trying to take a picture of something on their suspect’s balcony. Amy watches him stretch up to get the best angle, balancing on a branch. 

Then, something must have startled Jake, because he ducks beneath the cover of the leaves just a little too quickly. It seems cliché, but Amy really does watch it happen in slow motion. He wobbles back and forth, trying to regain his balance, before tipping over, arms wind-milling like a cartoon, into the bushes below. 

“Jake!” Amy exclaims aloud. She waits a moment to see if he pops back up, before exiting their undercover car and running across the street. “Are you okay?” 

Amy sees he has sat up against the tree trunk, but something doesn’t feel right. 

“Um I think I just fell on a bee’s nest.” Jake says, calm as can be. 

It is then that Amy realizes the swarm of bees flying around her head. 

“Oh my god.” She rushes to his side and kneels down. “Did you get stung?” 

In the span of a few seconds, Jake’s breathing has become an audible wheeze. He hunches over and puts his hand on his chest. Amy notices his face has started to swell. 

Jake nods and wheezes, “a couple times”. 

“It’s okay. It’s going to be fine.” Amy isn’t sure whether she is reassuring Jake, or herself. “Your Epipen’s in the car, right?” 

He nods again, “my bag”. 

Amy takes off running across the street, barely stopping to check for traffic. She pulls out a slinky, a bag of peanuts, and curiously, a sock, out of Jake’s bag. “Not now,” she mutters under her breath. She gives up and dumps the bag on the car seat. She finally pulls his Epipen from the mess she’s made, and brings his inhaler for good measure. 

She runs back across the street to Jake, who greets her with a grin. “Look Ames,” he gasps and tries to take a breath. “My lips are like sausages,” he says with a touch of pride. He must be the only one who can make jokes in the middle of an anaphylactic allergic reaction. 

Amy pulls the cap of the Epipen and puts it in Jake’s hand, but his fingers are shaking and he looks at her confused. 

“Stay with me,” she tries to turn her fear into a forceful command. “We’ll do it together.” She closes her hand around his, and brings it down with force into the middle of his outer thigh. 

“Ow that hurt,” he whines. Amy looks at him, with that mixture of love and irritation only he could bring out. But she can’t dwell on her feelings too long. She’s already dialling 911, her hand around his shoulder to support him. He leans into her arms. 

“911 what’s your emergency?” 

“My partner just got stung by a bee, and he’s allergic.” 

“Ames,” Jake says hoarsely in the background, “you don’t need to call 911, I’m fine.” Amy ignores him, listening intently to operator on the other end of the line. 

“Yes, he has an Epipen, we used it already.” Amy is running through her mental list of what-to-do, the list she researched extensively as soon as she learned of Jake’s bee allergy, far before they started dating. (Just being cautious, she told herself, nothing to do with her feelings for him. Just being practical). 

“Amy,” Jake grabs her arm. “I’m okay, really you don’t have to make a scene.” 

Amy is aware that she is shaking slightly all over. But she doesn’t have time to pay attention to her own feelings. Something about Jake’s breathing still doesn’t seem right, he’s still wheezing and sitting hunched over, palming his chest. 

“He’s having trouble breathing, and his face is swelling. And he seems sort of out of it.” Amy explains. She listens again, and then responds, “He’s thirty-five, I’m not sure when his last reaction was, more than five years ago. Oh, and he also has a past history of asthma, should he use his inhaler?” 

She listens to the operator on the line, nodding, and gives them their address. Finally, she hangs up and directs her attention back to Jake. 

“You can use your inhaler, if you want, I brought it.” He looks better now, but is still pale and shaken, breathing still laboured. 

He nods and she hands it to him. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Like I fell out of a tree, got stung by a bees nest, had a deathly allergic reaction, and then got stabbed in the leg.” Absurdly, he finishes with a grin. 

Amy looks at him, concerned. Now that she’s sure he’s okay, she can feel the fear she tamped down rising in her chest. 

“It’s not funny, Jake.” Amy means to express her care, but instead it comes out angry. 

He seems to shrink a bit, leaning haphazardly against the tree. 

“I’m sorry—“Amy starts, “It’s just, I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I know,” Jake looks at her, and Amy wonders how he manages to look at her with such love in the midst of the situation. 

“How’s your breathing? Any easier?” 

Jake nods, “Yeah, it’s better.” He pauses, “Did you really call for an ambulance?” 

Amy defends her decision, “Even if you use your Epipen, you’re supposed to go to the hospital, you might have a secondary reaction.” 

Then she realizes he’s not annoyed. In fact, Jake looks paler than before, even though he’s breathing significantly easier than before, and the swelling is coming down. 

“Jake…” Amy’s immediately concerned. She was so preoccupied with the imminent anaphylaxis situation that she didn’t check him over for any other injuries. 

“I might have messed up my ankle too,” he says meekly, as if it might inconvenience Amy. She moves to check his ankle. It doesn’t look like its bent wrong, but it feels swollen underneath the leg of his pants. In the distance, Amy can here sirens of what she hopes is the ambulance. If the situations were reversed, she knows she would hate the fuss of calling an ambulance. But anaphylactic reactions and possibly broken ankles were nothing to mess around with. 

“Your ankle feels a little swollen, try not to move it, and don’t take your shoe off. We’ll get the EMTs to take a look at it as well.” She moves her hands off his ankle, and takes his hands in hers, rubbing her thumb slightly across the back of his hand. 

“Did I ever tell you how attracted I am to crisis-mode Amy?” Jake says abruptly, lovingly. 

Amy can’t help but blush. 

“You know, next time falling out a tree is probably not the easiest way to bring out crisis mode Amy.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“You’re right, I could just mess up the paperwork again.” 

Jake gives a small, contented sigh, contrary to the dramatic events of the past half hour. “I love you, Ames.” 

“I love you too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Amy shaking all over while still staying composed during an emergency situation is based on my experience of the first (and thankfully only) time I had to call an ambulance for someone. 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr and rave about how much you love b99 with me: @feeisamarshmallow


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